


versace on the floor

by stevebuckiest



Series: chris and andy are in love [3]
Category: Defending Jacob (TV 2020), Destroyer (2018)
Genre: Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Cock Warming, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Panties, Praise Kink, actually they're just lace briefs but ? idk does that count, andy wooing chris a bit bc he's sweet like that, as always
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:08:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24991300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stevebuckiest/pseuds/stevebuckiest
Summary: Andy isn’t facing him when he walks in, turned around to face the stove where he’s stirring something, but his shoulders are held tight enough for Chris to tell that the other man knows he’s entered the room- and he’s most likely well aware that Chris has stopped in his tracks, mouth dropping open because Andy is currently cooking him dinner in nothing but a tight white t-shirt and the lace Versace briefs that Chris bought him a few months ago.
Relationships: Andy Barber/Chris (Destroyer)
Series: chris and andy are in love [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1809163
Comments: 1
Kudos: 63





	versace on the floor

**Author's Note:**

> yeah :) even more of this pairing no one asked for. hope you enjoy anyways !

Chris has had what feels like one of the longest days of his life. Clients being unreasonable, dealing with incompetent local law enforcement, even spilling his fucking coffee- you name it, it went wrong today. So, when he gets home, one of the first things he does after he gets in the door and locks up behind him is toss his coat on the couch and collapse on the sofa with a sigh. Normally he would call out to Andy that he's home, go to give him a kiss hello, but right now he doesn’t feel like moving. So he just reclines against the couch cushions and shuts his eyes for a few moments before he finally musters up the energy to see where his sweetheart is around the house.

“Andy,” he calls out tiredly. “I’m home. Had the _worst_ fucking day, lemme tell you.”

“I’m in the kitchen!” Andy responds, deep voice echoing through to the living room. There’s an odd quality to it, but frankly Chris doesn’t have the brain power to analyze it. Instead, he sighs heavily and pushes himself up off the couch to go see if Andy needs help with dinner, halfheartedly hoping that seeing his face will make the day at least a little bit better.

He’s greeted by something a lot more than just that.

Andy isn’t facing him when he walks in, turned around to face the stove where he’s stirring something, but his shoulders are held tight enough for Chris to tell that the other man knows he’s entered the room- and he’s most likely well aware that Chris has stopped in his tracks, mouth dropping open because Andy is currently cooking him dinner in nothing but a tight white t-shirt and the lace Versace briefs that Chris bought him a few months ago.

He looks completely breathtaking. Chris thinks that his sweetheart is handsome all the time, but like _this-_ white tee stretched to its limit across his broad back, perky ass encased in black lace, long legs going on for miles on display- Chris has to swallow and take a moment before he can even think about speaking, and when he does, his voice comes out raspy. “Hi, sweetheart,” he says softly.

Andy gives whatever he’s cooking another stir and turns it to simmer while he steels his nerves. He’s nervous, Chris can tell, eyes peeking over his shoulder. When he finally turns to face Chris, his cheeks are red as well, and all it takes is one glance at his soft shower-damp hair mussed against his forehead before Chris is walking forward to wrap him up in a kiss without Andy even having to say anything at all. He can’t help it. His fella looks so goddamn _good_ like this, bearded hunk of a man all wrapped up in soft, sweet clothing, looking at Chris with eyes like those. Could make a man do _anything_.

What Chris chooses to do is kiss him, slow and languid, hands reaching down to grab at Andy’s ass through the briefs. He makes sure to steer them a little to the side so he can get into real and proper like he wants, hands grasping up until Andy gets the hint and goes along with him so Chris can lift him up for the a brief moment and get him set against the counter, Andy letting out a quiet little noise into the kiss when the cold stone of it touches the skin of his thighs and ass though the sheer fabric of his underwear. It’s probably not the most sanitary move or place to do this- but it’s by far not the least sanitary thing they’ve _done_ , so Chris doesn’t give it a second through before he’s kissing Andy even deeper and getting those pretty legs wrapped around his waist.

They kiss for another few moments, but eventually they have to come up for air, Andy pulling back with a wet gasp and a shyly pleased smile that follows. “Welcome home,” he whispers.

Chris smiles back at him, kissing his forehead as well. “Hell of a thing to come home to, sweetheart,” he drawls, hands sliding up under his shirt to stroke at the soft skin of his waist.

Andy tightens his hold on his arms around Chris’s neck. “You like it?” he asks, voice slightly hesitant. “I wanted to surprise you but you said you’d had a bad day, so I get if you don’t want to- If you’d rather talk about it-“

Chris cuts his fretting off with another kiss, this one short and sweet. “I love it. Fuck what happened today, _you’re_ making my day a whole lot better,” he tells him, holding his gaze until Andy nods and seems reassured. Then, glancing at the stove beside them, he smiles softly. “You’re making me dinner, too? God, what’d I do to land a guy as sweet as you, thinking of me like this?”

Andy gives him one of his _aw-shucks_ smiles that Chris adores, bare legs pressing closer against the rough fabric of Chris’s jeans. “Just wanted to do something nice. Got a couple more surprises for later if you want them,” he says shyly. “Maybe since you’ve had such a bad day...I could help you relax?” On that last word he tugs Chris even closer in with his legs, looking up at him through his lashes with an expression that tells Chris the _exact_ nature of what he’s alluding to.

He can’t help the groan or the open mouthed kiss he presses against Andy’s mouth, hands sliding even further up until he’s got his thumbs stroking over the soft planes of his pecs, not quite touching his nipples but still close enough to make Andy sigh and rock down his hips in a way that both Chris and his dick take notice of. “Sweetheart,” he says lowly, pulling back and looking down between them at Andy’s interested cock tenting in the lace. “Do you…” He swallows, has to fight to control his voice. “You got it in right now? For me?”

Andy’s face is hot, but he nods and answers quietly, hips rocking down unconsciously on the plug buried in his ass again. “Yeah,” he exhales, voice deep with arousal. “Wanted to be ready for you.”

Chris groans and leans their foreheads together. “Jesus, you’re gonna kill me one day. So fucking good for me, sweetheart, getting that perfect ass ready for me to slide right in…” He moves a hand down and brushes gently over Andy’s lace-covered cock, making him inhale shakily. “Making that dick look even prettier than usual. Cooking for me, giving me something sweet to look at after getting home from a bad day. You’re taking such good care of me tonight.”

“You take good care of me all the time,” Andy tells him, voice honest and hushed. “Thought maybe I should try to return the favor.” His tone turns teasing. “Even if I’m not wanting you to call me daddy.”

Chris huffs out a laugh, pressing a kiss to the corner of Andy’s smiling mouth. “As long as you call _me_ daddy, I’m fine with anything you want, sweetheart. Just gonna say the word.”

“In that case…” Andy says slowly. “As much as I wanna stay up here and neck with you like we’re teenagers, I gotta finish making that dinner I promised you. Without letting it burn. Help me down?” He’s more than capable of getting down himself, but Chris’s desire to take care of his sweetheart and the coy way he asks makes that fact irrelevant.

Chris smacks a final kiss to his lips before sighing dramatically and pulling away. “As long as you’re offering yourself as dessert.”

“Wouldn’t have dressed this way if that wasn’t the plan, daddy,” Andy teases, eyes crinkling when Chris’s hands remain on his ass even after he’s got his feet back on the ground, squeezing it gently. “ _Chris_.”

Chris doesn’t stop there, fingers sliding over to press between Andy’s cheeks until he’s got them pushing against the hard plastic handle of the plug. Andy gasps, and Chris can’t help the smirk that he lets out. “Gonna feed me now that you’ve fed that hungry little hole of yours, huh?” he purrs, shoving it in a little deeper just to enjoy the way Andy groans and shoves his lace-covered cock forward against Chris’s thigh. “Guess I better leave you to it then, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want my good boy’s dinner to burn, would I?”

Andy huffs when Chris slaps his ass lightly and pulls away but his eyes are still glassy when he nods, obedient even with his slightly snarky response. “Wouldn’t want that.”

Chris laughs and kisses him again. “I’m gonna go wash up and change and then I’ll be back down to help.”

Andy turns back to the stove but pauses to throw Chris a slightly pleading look. “No helping,” he tells him. “This is supposed to be me treating _you_ nice remember? It’ll only take a bit longer, anyways.” He says it so sweetly that Chris doesn’t protest like he normally might, throwing his hands up in surrender and starting to back out of the kitchen.

“Alright, sweet thing. I guess I’ll just sit back and watch you cook in your pretty underwear. Not exactly a hardship.”

Andy smiles, looking pleased. “Thank you.”

“Be back down in a minute!” Chris calls, already making his way halfway to their bedroom. He doesn’t want to miss another _second_ more than he has to of his baby in those briefs. He doesn’t wear them too terribly often, only when he’s feeling particularly soft and sweet, and Chris adores him in every state of undress but- god damn, if that lace doesn’t kill him every time. He’s been wearing them a bit more lately, sometimes even under his usual clothing and suits, but Chris is practically salivating at the thought of how centered they are around them this evening.

He is going to _worship_ his sweetheart’s ass tonight. Show him exactly how much his daddy loves that sweet, needy ass of his, already stuffed full and ready for Chris to just slide right in. He groans at the thought of bending Andy over the dining room table, maybe putting his mouth on him to get him all wet and sloppy- pulling his cheeks apart and just taking a good, long look at how wide open and aching for it he is before slapping those pretty cheeks pink and putting his own dick right where it belongs. Buried inside his boyfriend.

Christ. He sighs in anticipation as he rids himself of his jacket and now too-tight jeans in favor of a black under-tank and sweats that do exactly nothing to hide the hard on that all this thinking has stuck him with. He doesn’t think he’ll hear any complaints about it from Andy. In fact, the physical evidence of how he affects Chris always makes him even _more_ desperate for it, the kind of praise that he doesn’t need to hear and never seems to deny.

He’s so sweet for it, Chris’s baby is. Chris loves it. Loves _him_. And right now he needs to get back downstairs to him so he can enjoy the show. Personally, Chris has never been one for cooking shows, but this is one that he thinks he’ll be able to appreciate fully. With a grin and the thought of Andy in one of those cute little aprons, Chris finishes tying off his sweats and starts making his way back downstairs, the clatter of plates telling him that Andy is getting around to setting the table.

He’s still bent over placing their silverware kitty-corner on the table when Chris walks back in the room, ass right on display and lace stretched sheer enough for Chris to see the plug through it.

He whistles low and smiles fondly at the way Andy starts and looks at him with happily flushed cheeks. “Sure you don’t need any help?” he asks, just to offer.

Andy shakes his head. “No, thanks. Sit down, I’ve almost got it ready. Just gotta take some stuff out of the oven and carry it all over.” He licks his lips absentmindedly and looks at the bottle of wine and accompanying glasses he has on the table. “Guess you could pour the wine, though, if you don’t mind.”

“You got it, sweetheart.” He doesn’t even attempt trying to hide the shameless way he ogles Andy’s ass and legs while he finishes dinner up. Those thighs of his are almost as nice as his ass- and that’s saying something. Chris knows from personal experience just how good they feel around his face. There’s also his tiny little waist and contrastingly broad back to look at, practically indecent in that tight t-shirt of his. Chris doesn’t even know where he got it. It doesn’t fit him in any capacity, not that Chris minds with the eyeful of Andy’s plush pecs it gives him.

Andy turns beet red under all the appreciative scrutiny, flush traveling down past the line of his beard to his neck, but despite his bashful looks and the way he keeps popping out his ass when he walks slowly around the kitchen, he doesn’t say anything until he’s got all his prepared dishes moved over to the table. “ _Chris_ ,” he complains weakly. “Stop looking at me like you wanna eat me, you’ve got a perfectly good meal right in front of you.”

And he does- Andy is quite the cook, but although the potatoes and chicken cordon bleu he’s prepared look amazing, that’s not what Chris is gazing at hungrily right now. He leans back in his chair and raises his eyebrows at Andy, still blushing and setting down their salads in front of him. “I have an ambitious appetite, sweetheart. Got room for more than one course, if you’re offering yourself on the menu. Could eat that pretty ass for _days_.”

Andy almost drops the bowl he’s holding, tiny noise coming out. Chris grins. His sweetheart is always so easy for it when he gets something sweet said to him.

Case and point, the doe eyes he’s giving him right now. “C’mon, daddy,” he says softly, shy smile on his face. “Gotta eat dinner before you can have dessert.”

“Don’t know if I can take my eyes off you long enough to enjoy our dinner, sweetheart. How about you come sit in my lap while we eat? So I don’t let this nice meal you’ve made me go to waste.” He stretched back lazily and doesn’t bother trying to mask his shameless smile, and although Andy rolls his eyes and blushes, he ends up padding over and draping himself right where Chris wants him.

He settles sideways on Chris’s lap, arm around Chris’s neck and ass perched snugly on one thigh. “You’re ridiculous,” he informs him, sighing happily when Chris nuzzles at his collarbones and slides a hand of his own around Andy’s waist, soft skin exposed by his too-tight shirt riding up.

“Mm, and you’re _mine_ , sweetheart,” Chris murmurs, satisfaction curling in his gut when Andy’s breath hitches at the claim. “Gonna keep my lap nice and warm while we eat?”

Andy swallows hard and nods, head jerking over to look at the food set on the table in front of him. “Could…could feed you some if you want,” he offers tentatively, as if Chris might say _no_. Like he’d ever deny Andy the opportunity to do something like that when he asks so prettily.

He’s quick to prove him otherwise. “I’d like that. Gonna let me feed you too, sweet thing?” he asks, voice low. He slides his free hand up one of Andy’s thick thighs until it’s toying at the hem of his briefs. “I know you’re already feeling a little...full” he purrs, squeezing the soft skin.

Andy lets out a gentle noise and shifts on Chris’s lap, cheeks flushing when the plug rocks inside him. “If you want to,” he says quietly.

Chris hums and noses at his neck a final time before pulling back. “Guess we better eat up before it gets cold.” He takes a look at the table and squeezes Andy’s hip. “Everything looks amazing, sweetheart, thank you.”

Andy smiled and preens a little at the compliment. “You’re welcome, Chris.”

Fixing their plates is a bit more difficult than it would be if Andy wasn’t currently sitting on top of him, but Chris doesn’t mind having to stretch a little extra if it means he has his lace-clad boyfriend draped across his lap and looking at him happily while they feed each other an occasional bite from their forks. He’d like to find _any_ sane person who’d be unhappy to be in his place right about now, especially when Andy starts letting out pleased little noises at each mouthful of food he takes in.

Chris clears his throat and tries not to let himself get too distracted from the meal at hand despite the fact that he’s pretty sure Andy can feel his dick perking back up in his sweats. “How was _your_ day today, sweetheart? Anything exciting happening at the office?” he asks, taking a sip of his wine.

Andy shakes his head and reaches over to grab his own glass, shifting in Chris’s lap. “It was okay but no, nothing exciting really. Neil was being a dick as usual at lunch but I left early and got enough work done to come home a little early and...you know,” he finishes off, downing a sip of wine and coming up from it with a flush Chris doesn’t think can be explained away with the alcohol. “Took a shower. Did some laundry.”

“Sounds nice,” Chris says, watching Andy chase a drop of wine from his lips with his tongue. He holds up a forkful of potatoes to his mouth and watched him take that in too. He swallows and speaks up shyly once he’s done.

“What about you? You said you had a rough day?” he asks quietly, setting down his fork and leaning his head against Chris’s, seemingly done eating for now. Chris doesn’t answer for a moment, content to let his boyfriend just cuddle against him instead, but eventually he finishes chewing his bite of chicken and sighs.

“Yeah, it was just a long one,” he says wearily. “Frustrating. Had to deal with some difficult people and situations, a client being temperamental.” He tries to keep the irritation out of his voice, not wanting Andy to worry that he’s annoyed with him.

Andy kisses the top of his head and winds one of his legs around Chris’s calf. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

Chris pushes away his own plate now that he’s done and twists to peck Andy on the shoulder. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he says, and he genuinely means it. As bad as he was feeling earlier, Andy’s care for him this evening has made him practically forget about it. Why think about work stress when he has such a gorgeous man right here with him? He tells him as much, nuzzling into his neck and winding his arms around his waist to hug him closer. “Besides, having you looking so gorgeous for me and treating me so nice has made it a whole lot better. Thank you again, sweetheart, everything was absolutely delicious.”

Andy ducks his head with a happy smile. “Yeah?” he says, voice pleased. “Well, it’s exactly over yet, I know I offered you a, ah, _different_ kind of dessert but I have an actual one in the fridge as well. If you want it,” he adds on, looking slightly bashful at the reminder of what he and Chris are going to get up to later. As if the plug buried in his ass isn’t reminder enough. Chris hums and decides to help him out with that a little, intentionally shifting his thigh so Andy has to rock down a little to stay upright, indirectly causing the plug to seat itself deeper inside him. He inhales shakily and grips onto Chris’s shoulders tighter but doesn’t protest at the jostle, eyes fluttering shut as he waits for Chris to answer.

Chris smiles smugly and pats him on the thigh. “That sounds good, sweetheart, how about you go get it while I make things a little more comfortable for us?” he suggests. “I think maybe I wanna try something a little different this time.” He intentionally leaves his last statement vague, and luckily Andy is distracted enough by the order not to question it, nodding obediently and untangling himself from Chris’s embrace so he can get up and languidly stretch before heading to the kitchen.

“Yeah, daddy,” he says quietly. Chris’s eyes track the way the muscles of his ass tighten as he stretches his upper body, taking in the way he shudders slightly around the plug after, toes curling when he lets out a soft sigh.

Chris relaxes back in his chair. “Good boy.” He watches Andy’s shoulders slump at the praise as he heads in towards the kitchen, feeling somewhere between possessive and impossibly fond towards the other man. He’s also feeling something else, though. Or more specifically, his dick is. Like this, facing the fridge to dig out whatever dessert he’s got inside, Andy has no view of what Chris is doing while he’s turned around, a fact that Chris takes ample advantage of for the brief few moments Andy is gone

When he returns to the table, plate in hand, he stops in his tracks with wide eyes. His face turns beet red in a second, voice coming out wobbly. “Chris?”

Chris smiles lazily from where he’s reclined comfortably in his chair at the table, position not much changed besides the fact that he now has his sweats slipped down just far enough for his cock to be standing against his stomach, hard and already leaking at the tip. Andy’s eyes are practically glued to it, grip on the plate tightening as Chris gives himself a few slow strokes. “C’mere, sweetheart,” he orders. “Come get comfortable on your new seat. You’ve been good, you deserve this.”

Andy’s breathing gets more ragged the closer he steps, slow and hesitant. “You want me to…” He swallows, voice trailing off.

“I want you to come sit down so I can feed you your dessert, sweetheart. Keep being good for me, come on,” Chris tells him gently, holding a hand out for Andy to take when he gets close enough to set the slice of cake he’d brought in on the table. He accepts the hand with a weak grip, cheeks burning.

Cockwarming, like the briefs, is nothing that new to them. But it is something they haven’t done many times, and Andy obviously hadn’t been expecting it from the way that he’s shying away. Chris hadn’t been lying though, Andy has been being so good, and he knows that his sweetheart loves keeping his cock warm. He _does_ deserve this, and Chris is going to give it to him. In more ways than one.

He squeezes his hand and pulls Andy to stand in front of him, ass facing the table. “Reach around and pull that pretty plug out for me, sweetheart.” Seeing Andy’s hesitant expression, he grips his hand again and gives him a soft look. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna leave that needy ass of yours empty for too long. Go on, Andy. Be good for me. For daddy.”

The gentle request and reminder to be good finally spurs Andy to obey through the nervousness. He pushes his briefs down his thighs with shaky hands and flushes even deeper when his erection springs free, but with another encouraging look from Chris, he takes in a deep breath and reaches back behind himself to part his cheeks and pull the plug loose from his hole with a slick sound that makes him squeeze his eyes shut.

He lets out a tiny groan at the loss and embarrassment, but Chris is quick to shush him, sliding his free hand up over his hip bone and wrapping it around his dick to give it a quick, rewarding stroke. “Good boy. Hand me the plug sweetheart, then take off that pretty underwear for me. Gonna get you sat down nice and snug on me so I can feed both of your holes at the same time, yeah?” he says lowly, eyes half lidded.

Andy full out whimpers at that sentiment, handing the plug over to Chris with a fumbling hand and stepping out of his briefs while Chris bends around him to set the still slick toy on a napkin on the table.

It’s not sanitary, but Chris doesn’t really care about that when he’s got his sweetheart in front of him ready to climb on his cock at the soonest say-so. When his briefs get kicked to the side (a shame, with how expensive those damn things were- Versace, for Christ’s sake), Chris gives it to him, leaning back and patting his thighs. “Come on, sweetheart. Sit down on daddy’s cock, keep it warm for me.”

Andy whines, movements sluggish, but he obeys nonetheless. With a shaky breath, he lifts up a knee to start climbing on the chair and Chris’s lap, moving himself until he’s straddling his thighs with a leg on either side. He looks down at Chris pleadingly and grips his shoulders. “Chris,” he breathes out. “Daddy-“

Chris interrupts him by slapping his cockhead up against Andy’s wet hole, gaze intense. “Need me to help stick it in you, sweetheart? Help fill you up just right?”

Andy nods quickly. “Please, Chris- put it in-“ he begs, fingers digging down.

Chris grabs his jaw with the hand not on his dick, shutting him up with a kiss, other hand moving so that the blunt head of him presses up against Andy’s loose entrance. All he has to do is slide right down, he’s so open. So that’s what Chris tells him to do, still gripping his chin firmly. “Sink down on it, baby. Stuff yourself full, c’mon,” he commands, and with a moan, Andy obeys.

He lowers himself down slowly, face going blissful as soon as the tip presses inside. “Oh, jesus,” he exhales, eyes falling shut. “ _Chris-_ “

Chris kisses him again, both hands coming up to clutch at his waist, still wrapped under that ridiculously tight shirt. Andy’s biceps are straining against the sleeves so hard with the effort of his careful descent that Chris is surprised they aren’t ripping, but it’s becomes hard to focus on that small miracle when Andy suddenly moans into their kiss loud and sudden enough for Chris to know he’s hit his own prostate. It’s a battle not to fuck his hips up after that, surrounded by tight, wet heat and Andy practically whimpering against his lips as he bottoms out around his dick, but that’s not this is about right now.

Letting out a low groan of his own, he spies the abandoned cake on the table in front of him. He leans forward to grab it and the fork from his dinner, Andy burying his head briefly in Chris’s shoulder as the movement makes the cock inside his ass push forward and his own dick rub nicely against the soft fabric of Chris’s tank top. “ _God_ ,” he curses quietly, hands clutching tight. “Chris- fuck-“

Chris shushes him, head twisting to kiss his hair. “Enough of that, sweetheart. Later, I promise. Right now I want to enjoy our dessert, okay? Just have you sit sweet and pretty on my cock while I get both of those hungry holes filled, yeah?” He presses the edge of the plate against Andy’s clothed back, setting the fork on it so he can pet at his hair a bit until he gets calmed down enough to lift his head.

When he does, his eyes are glassy and his cheeks are stained red. “Yeah, daddy,” he says dazedly. “Gonna be good for you.”

“You’re being perfect just by sitting on my lap and keeping my cock all nice and warm for me,” Chris murmurs to him. “Don’t even gotta move to be good, just gotta let me love on you a little like you’ve been doing to me all night. Just gotta sit there and be full for me.” Andy looks at him like he might protest, but as soon as Chris squeezes his hip, he quiets down.

Chris knows Andy has an innate desire to be good, and he loves that more than anything about him. But Chris is also dead set on getting rid of that conviction the other man has that in order to be good, he has to constantly be working to please and fulfill everything Chris might want. As if him being present and handing over control to Chris and letting him be his daddy isn’t _enough_. As if him just being him isn’t enough to give Chris everything he needs.

This- having Andy sat down on him like this and pointedly not moving- is just one of the ways Chris is going to keep trying to show him that with. So he gives Andy another firm squeeze on his hip and kisses his mouth gently. “You’re being so good, sweetheart. Just let me take care of us for a little bit, you deserve this too.”

Andy ducks his head down, pinking when he’s greeted by the sight of his own cock, but he doesn’t protest. Only nods minutely and looks back up at Chris obediently. “Okay,” he says softly, and Chris smiles fondly.

He’ll show him yet

He rubs at his back before picking the fork back up and taking off a small bite of the red velvet cake Andy had brought out, drawing it back towards their mouths with a careful arm. “Okay, sweetheart,” he says gently. “Let’s enjoy the dessert you got me. Open up.” At the direction, Andy does just that and Chris lets him chew and swallow it before he’s kissing him briefly, taking his own bite, and repeating the process again.

Even at their languid pace, it isn’t long before the cake is slowly finished, every shift and jostle doing nothing but helpfully reminding them of the position their bodies are currently in. It affects Andy more than Chris, making him let out the occasional hushed moan or drop his forehead briefly on Chris’s shoulder. But that’s not to say Chris isn’t feeling the strain of having to hold back as well. By the time he’s leaning them forward to put the plate back down on the table, Andy clinging onto his neck with a groan, he’s barely able to hold himself back anymore.

By the way Andy is panting against his skin, he’s in the same boat, so Chris doesn’t figure he has to do much convincing. He slides his hands up under Andy’s shirt, feeling the way his back is slightly damp with sweat and groaning at the shift of muscle under his fingers. He kisses the spot under his ear briefly before pulling away to mutter, “bedroom?” and that’s all there is to be said before Andy is nodding and Chris is grabbing his hips to help him lift up off his dick so Andy can climb off him with wobbly legs and wait for Chris to pull his pants up so they can head upstairs. Chris makes sure to grab the plug and Andy’s briefs along the way.

Andy is obviously disgruntled by the loss of Chris’s dick in his ass, but Chris laughs and plasters himself to his back and bare lower half after they make their way up the stairs. “You’ll get it back soon, sweetheart,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around his waist while continuing down the hall to their room. He makes sure to press his hips forward just to tease. “Gonna fuck you nice and proper this time.”

Andy groans at the promise and the feeling of his bunched up lace briefs brushing against his cock where Chris has them held. “Please.”

Chris hums and pushes him gently through the doorway to their room, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. “Take your shirt off and get on the bed. Want you to ride me.” Andy hurries to obey, obviously aching for Chris to get back in him, and Chris isn’t about to make him wait. He shucks off his own clothing, snags the bottle of lube from their nightstand, and takes the time to slick himself up before climbing on the bed to sit back against the pillows and wait for Andy to climb on top. He sticks a few perfunctory fingers in him as well, making sure that he’s still stretched out enough for Chris to slide in and fuck him. Just in case he decides to ask as well, leaning in to kiss him gently before murmuring, “You ready for me?”

His nod is immediate, hands clutching at Chris’s neck right where his tattoo is. Please, Chris,” he breathes out, eyes dazed. “ _Daddy_.”

“Of course, sweet thing.” And with that, Chris is lining himself up and helping Andy sink back down on him, both of them gasping as soon as he bottoms out. “Christ,” Chris groans, hands gripping Andy’s waist tight. “Ride me, sweetheart, c'mon. Wanna see that pretty cock and those pecs _bounce_ for me.” Andy flushes, always embarrassed by Chris’s infatuation with his chest, but starts doing as he’s told regardless. Always so obedient, always a good boy. Chris can’t help but kiss him for it, hands sliding up to feel Andy’s pecs move in his hands, momentum shifting them every time he brings himself down on Chris’s cock. He thumbs over his nipples at the same time he slides his tongue into Andy’s mouth, the other man moaning wantonly and grinding his hips down more desperately.

Eventually they break away from the kiss and Andy cups his face in both hands, still rocking down desperately. “Chris,” he exhales, whining as he brushes against his prostate. “Fuck, daddy.”

Chris hums lowly, bringing his hips up to help him along. “Gonna get that hole of yours all sloppy,” he tells him, fingers pinching at his nipples until they’re blooming red and Andy is crying out from it, cock bobbing between them. “Think you’ll be able to get it back up if I make us both come and then get my mouth on you to clean it up?” He leans in and kisses him, deep and messy, speaking his next words darkly against his parted lips. “Think you’ll let me get my tongue in there even if you can’t?”

The moan Andy lets out is low and guttural, pace turning more frantic at every filthy word Chris gets out. He nods, breath coming out ragged against Chris’s mouth as they start working together, nailing his prostate with every round of movement. “Fuck,” he grits out, voice wrecked. “Chris- can I come? Wanna come, please- lemme come- touch my cock, _please_.”

“I got you, sweetheart. I got you,” Chris assures him, large hand reaching down from Andy’s chest to wrap around his dick, red and leaking between their stomachs. “You can come, anytime. Come for me, Andy, I got you.” With a few more grinds of his hips and the firm pressure of Chris’s hand stroking his cock, Andy does just that, letting out a broken sob as he shoots off between their stomachs and collapses against Chris’s shoulder. “ _Good boy_ ,” Chris growls, hips snapping up at a brutal pace now that he knows his sweetheart is about to get sensitive. He wants to come in him before it hurts too bad, but he can’t say he minds the little mewls Andy lets out against his neck in the meantime.

“Daddy,” he whispers out. “Come in me, please. Wanna feel it in me, c’mon.”

He says it so _sweetly_ , so soft- who is Chris to be able to resist that? He can’t, so with one final grind up into Andy’s ass, he comes with a punched out groan and fills his sweetheart up just like he asked. Andy lets out a groan of his own while Chris rides it out in him, clinging to his neck almost desperately. He doesn’t let go, not even when Chris’s body relaxes and he leans them further back into the pillows.

Chris needs to take a moment to catch his breath, arms sliding down and around to rub Andy’s back in the meantime. Eventually, when he can speak again, his voice comes out raspy. “You need a minute before I clean you up like I promised?”

Andy groans into his neck before lifting his head up and looking at Chris with a fucked out expression. “You haven’t eaten enough tonight?” he jokes weakly.

Chris hums and leans back in for a kiss, tongue swiping at Andy’s lips before he pulls away. “I always have loved eating out,” he purrs, fingers finding their way down to press at Andy’s rim where Chris is still buried inside him, teasing gently at it. “Besides, I’m a man of my word, sweetheart. Aren’t I?”

Andy huffs and gives him a sated smile, head tipping forward to lean against his. “That you are,” he agrees. “Always take good care of me,” he says quietly. “Thank you, daddy.”

Chris’s eyes soften and he kisses him again, rolling them forward until he’s got them flipped around with Andy on his back underneath him, bodies upside down on the bed. He pulls away after a few moments of languid kissing, hips moving gently away until he’s pulled out and Andy is sighing at the feeling of Chris’s release slowly dripping out of him. Like this, spread out and messy with both their releases, he looks debauched and sated. Something possessive and sappy curls up in Chris’s gut at the sight, and although he means to let out something nasty to fit with their situation, what comes out instead is a gentle “I love you, sweetheart” that leaves Andy flushing underneath him.

He smiles shyly and twists his head to try and hide it, but Chris rolls his eyes and doesn’t let him shy away, kissing him again until Andy breaks it off and looks back up at him through his eyelashes. “I love you too,” he says quietly.

It’s not the first time they’ve said it, but it is still new to the both of them, and Chris knows just how much hearing the words said so genuinely and intimately means to Andy after the track record he’s had with not hearing them said back. So he says it again. “I love you.”

Andy breathes in slow and deep, hands curling around his neck and rubbing at the ink on his skin. “I believe you,” is all he says this time, but it's exactly what Chris wanted to hear. It’s all he wants for Andy to do, believing he’s loved. Even above loving him back.

He kisses him one last time, trying to put every ounce of what he’s feeling into it before he pulls back and tries to set the mood back on track to keep his promise. “Now how about I get to work, huh?”

Andy lets out a soft moan as Chris starts kissing his way down his body, tongue pausing to lap at the come drying on his stomach before continuing on down to lick at where Chris’s own release is shining against his hole. He spreads his legs, hands clutching at Chris’s head while he gets to work. “That’s good by me,” he breathes out.

It’s good by Chris, too. All of this is, really. Especially Andy.

**Author's Note:**

> i don't think anyone truly understands how much i love these men together, besides maybe my friends since i never shut up about them. as usual chris is the best, andy is painfully good, and they're sickeningly wonderful for each other. feel free to leave some feedback <3


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